OK. This one’s been bugging me for some time now, but yet another encounter with the reckless sociopaths of London’s streets who seem determined to put me—or some other innocent pedestrian—into a wheelchair has sent me into blog rant mode.

Yes, it’s you I’m talking about. You who cycle through the streets of Westminster in your shorts in temperatures well below the point at which normal people have donned woolly hats, thick sweaters, denim jeans and long johns. More specifically, those of you who completely disregard red traffic lights at pedestrian crossings.

Yes, I know you are persecuted by drivers who open doors in your path, who clip their wing mirrors on your handlebars, who overtake you immediately before turning left; by pedestrians who step out in front of you without looking; and by potholes in the roads. I cycle too, and I have to put up with that nonsense as well. But guess what? That doesn’t give you an excuse to behave recklessly and dangerously yourself.

What got me going about this was the three of you this morning who came speeding up to the pelican crossing on Vauxhall Bridge Road that I had just started to cross. Only one of you paid the slightest attention to the fact that the lights were red, and in fact the other two of you didn’t even acknowledge my existence. I might as well not have even been there at all.

A year ago, one of my colleagues suffered a broken leg thanks to a hit-and-run cyclist who ran a red light just outside our offices. She was off work for about six weeks and on crutches for about three months after that. The moron responsible was never caught.